


A Song of Love and Christmas

by ThatMerlinFangirl



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Art Student!Mordred, Christmas, Emotions, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Musician!Merlin, Pining, Romance, Sick Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-27
Updated: 2016-09-10
Packaged: 2018-08-11 08:24:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7883848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatMerlinFangirl/pseuds/ThatMerlinFangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Christmas is a time for friends and family and music. And maybe, just maybe, love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Memories

"Jeez Mordred, could you possibly walk faster than a constipated slug?"

"It's not my fault you're so bloomin' heavy."

"Oi! I'm sick, you're supposed to be nice to me and tell me I'm like an angel."

"Well the stupid beanie doesn't really help matters. Can we settle with ogre?"

Merlin thumps him and Mordred chuckles.

The latest bout of his illness has, again, left Merlin pretty much unable to walk but he insists that he doesn't need anything to help. So Mordred, his ever-kind, ever-helpful best friend, has to give him a piggyback everywhere, grumbling all the way.

Even though Merlin actually weighs about as much as a sack of feathers and he actually looks kind of adorable in that beanie and the only reason he takes so long is to feel the weight of his arms round him and the mist of warm breath on his cheek -

"Hellooo? Anyone in there?" Mordred starts as bony fingers snap in front of his face and he nearly falls on his bottom.

"I hate you." he grumbles.

"Of course you do. Now come on! Merly wants to do Christmas shopping!"

"You're such a brat."

They bicker all the way down to town.

If it were snowing, it would be a picture postcard image. An enormous Christmas tree, decked in crimson and gold, stands at the centre of the town square. The lights are up, depicting shimmering angels and holly leaves. Dozens of people mill around, laughing and chattering in thick coats and woollen hats. Stalls are laid thick with hot chocolate, crispy gingerbread and mince pies. Reindeer gallop over the roof of the toy shop.

Mordred can feel Merlin smile, like a ray of sun.

~~~

Later, as they make their way up town in search of a present for Arthur, they pass a group of street musicians singing Christmas carols. One of them plays a violin, her cheeks red, bow dancing with the strings.

"I used to play the violin." Merlin says suddenly.

"You did?" Mordred is taken aback.

"Yeah. Since I was a little kid," Merlin smiles sadly. "I loved it. I was going to be a musician when I grew up. But then... well you know. Mum. Diagnosis. So it kind of got a bit lost."

"Oh."

He can hear Merlin's quiet sniffles.

"Are you OK?" Mordred asks gently.

A pause.

"Course I am idiot! Now come on, or his Royal Pratlyness will be complaining that we didn't get him anything all day."

"Really Merlin, you shouldn't speak of your friends this way."

"Oh yeah? Well who are you to order me around - Davros?"

"THAT WAS TOO FAR MERLIN!"

~~~

On the way home however, Merlin is unusually quiet and when they get back to the flat he shuts himself in his room, claiming he's tired. Normally Mordred wouldn't be too concerned as fatigue is quite a dominant symptom in his illness. But now he's not so sure.

He sits down at the kitchen table with a coffee and some Ed Sheeran and tries to concentrate on his current art project - they have to do a 'Figure in Motion' in whatever medium they choose, and he's trying to do a watercolour of a dancer but it's not working.

Worrying about Merlin does nothing to help and after splodging a blue crescent moon over the dancer's face, he screws the picture up into a soggy pink ball, throws it in the bin and goes to check on him.

He pauses outside the door. From inside, there is a faint whisper of violin music.

Mordred carefully pushes it open, trying not to make a sound.

There is violin music, coming from the CD player, and Merlin is lying curled up on the bed, bawling his eyes out. Mordred goes over and sits next to him, pulling him onto his lap in a hug. He sobs into his chest.

"It's OK," Mordred whispers, stroking his hair. "It's OK Merls, I'm here, I've got you."

Merlin just fists a hand in his shirt and cries even harder.

Far far away, a clock chimes midnight under the stars.

It's three days until Christmas.


	2. Tears

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God, this chapter was a bitch not wanting to be written... Anyways, please enjoy.

"Seriously, you have no idea what I've had to put up with this past week," Morgana shudders as she sips her tea. "Arthur and Gwen are so insufferably sweet it's giving me diabetes. I mean, yesterday..."

Mordred nods and makes sympathetic sounds but he's constantly distracted by Merlin's open bedroom door - the man in question being sound asleep. He hasn't spoken a word about the incident two days ago but then again he's barely talked or smiled and he keeps playing the same violin track over and over. It would be annoying if he wasn't so worried.

"Allright," Morgana sighs. "What's wrong? Apart from the fact that you're looking at Merlin like a lovesick puppy and not giving me my much-needed therapy."

Mordred tells her about the violin and Merlin's tearful outburst.

"So I don't know if it's the memories or if he's missing the violin and I really don't have a clue what to do about it."

"It's probably a bit of both," Morgana says thoughtfully. "But if he's playing the music it seems more likely that he's missing it, right?"

"I guess. But what do I do about it?"

"Well you're his best friend. I don't know. Talk to him. Take him to a violin concert. Hell, buy him one. Maybe it'll cheer him up."

Mordred splutters. "Do you _know_ how much a violin costs?"

"I'm no expert but I'll take it it's expensive," she eyes him slyly. "So how do you know then mister?"

He sighs. "I thought about it. I looked it up. But I can't Morgana. We barely have enough to pay the rent, let alone buy a bloody violin."

Realistically, he'd known it wouldn't be possible. But he so desperately wants Merlin to smile again, more than anything, and can't help the childish sense of disappointment and anger.

She pats him on the head sadly. "There's no hope for you is there?"

"Not really."

~~~

The tree is up and they have enough tinsel and baubles to sink the Spanish but Mordred doesn't feel like decorating.

He kneels amongst the boxes, staring at the bare, empty branches. It's not a Christmas tree. It's a sad one. Christmas is always sad for him, no matter how much fun he has with his friends or how much turkey and wine he stuffs himself with or how many presents he gets. Because there's always the nonexistent gifts and the absent parents and the long, lonely hours sat by the window, watching happy families laugh and kiss and pull crackers.

And slaps and shouts and dark rooms and -

"Hey you." 

Merlin's bright blue eyes suddenly appear in front of him. He's sat on the floor, knees pressed against Mordred's. Warm. Flushed. Beautiful.

Mordred tries to smile, blinking away tears. "Hey."

"You OK?"

"Yeah."

"Bullshit."

Merlin takes one of his hands and clasps it gently between his own. They sit for a while, just holding hands and content in the comforting knowledge that the other is there.

"Come on," Merlin attempts to stagger upright. "We've got a tree to decorate."

Mordred helps him to his feet and he hands him a piece of tinsel. Then he switches on the radio and a horribly all-too-familiar song blares out.

Mordred groans theatrically. "Noo! Merlin! You know I hate this song!"

Merlin just smirks and continues lip-syncing 'Santa Baby', pulling the most ridiculous seductive faces until Mordred is in stitches and possibly even more in love with him than before.

And Mordred knows then exactly what Merlin is getting for Christmas.


	3. Gifts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your lovely comments on the last two chapters, they really made me smile. I hope you enjoy chapter three.

Laughter rings around the room as Gwaine presents Percival with his Christmas present - a T-shirt depicting Santa in the bath, singing the X-rated version of 'Good King Wenceslas'.

"See? It's the spitting image!" Gwaine holds it up next to Percival's shiny red face.

Quite how the nine of them have managed to squeeze into Merlin and Mordred's tiny living room, now complete with holly, gaudy paper chains and a tree fit for the Queen of England, is nothing short of a miracle, although it does help that Gwen is perched on Arthur's lap. It's the late hours of Christmas Eve and after a vigorous round of charades, they are sipping wine and exchanging gifts.

"Merlin! It's your turn. Give someone a present." Arthur commands.

"Yes _your Highness,"_ Merlin sticks his tongue out. "Mordred, shut your eyes."

Mordred obeys. He hears footsteps, the creak of the door, muffled giggles.

"Hold out your hands," another voice, Elyan's, instructs him. "And be careful."

Something warm and fluffy, wriggling at his touch, appears.

"You can open your eyes!"

Mordred blinks. Cradled in his hands is a tiny, bedraggled kitten, with snowy fur and enormous moon grey eyes. A red ribbon bearing a name tag is tied in a fancy bow around it's neck. As he stares, it looks up at him and bats at his nose with a velvety paw.

" _Doctor Watson?"_ Morgana snorts as she reads the tag. "Really Merlin? Really?"

"Hey, Mordred's the Sherlock Holmes nerd, not me," Merlin protests. He kneels in front of him on the carpet. "So... do you like him?"

" _Like_ him? Merlin he's gorgeous!"

Mordred strokes Dr Watson's ears and he purrs appreciatively.

"Well, some of the credit must go to Mr Animal-Shelter-Volunteer over there." Merlin waves a hand at Elyan who folds his arms in mock indignation.

"Only some?"

"Yes. Shut up Elyan, no one likes you," says Merlin, and gets a cuffed ear in response. "OK your Royal assness - who's next?"

"Assness Merlin? That is Jilly Cooper level cringeworthy."

"Who the fuck is Jilly Cooper?"

"Yes, meanwhile," Mordred interrupts, retrieving the box wrapped in white and gold reindeer paper from under the tree and handing it to Merlin. "Happy Christmas."

"Hands up who thinks it's chocolate." Gwaine says loudly.

"Shut up Gwaine."

"Oh come on, it's what you always get him. It isn't exactly a mystery."

But he is proved wrong when Merlin peels away the last of the paper and reveals an ornate wooden box.

"You need to open it." says Mordred.

He carefully undoes the brass clasp and slowly, tentatively, lifts the lid.

And for a moment, Mordred thinks he's got everything wrong.


	4. Stars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well I'm sure that last chapter left you hanging... Meh, it probably didn't. Oh well. Please enjoy.

For a moment, he's certain he's wrong because the lightning flash of shock and fear and sorrow in Merlin's wide eyes is enough to make him to question the universe, let alone a Christmas present.

But then an enormous grin spreads over Merlin's face, which lights up as he takes the violin out of it's tissue paper cocoon, gazing at it as if it were the most beautiful thing in the world.

He looks up at Mordred with wordless joy.

The next thing he knows, the breath is being forcibly squeezed from his lungs as Merlin launches  himself across the room and into his arms.

"Thank you," he whispers into his chest. "Thank you, thank you, thank you."

They cling to each other for a bit as Merlin sniffles and Mordred strokes his hair, an overwhelming sense of relief washing over him. They only pull apart when Morgana declares in melodramatic fashion "Please! Please just kiss! My heart cannot take it!" and enacts an over-the-top fake death, prompting a hearty laugh from the rest of the group.

"Allright Merlin, if you're so pleased with your violin, give us a little performance." calls Leon. He is echoed by the others.

"OK, OK," says Merlin. "I haven't played for a while though, so don't expect anything special."

He stands, shrugging off any attempts to help, and raises the violin to his shoulder. Respectful silence falls over the room like a veil. Mordred's twitching fingers are knotted in his lap.

The first notes aren't a song. They stand alone, in high, slow sombriety, as Merlin's delicate fingers explore the strings, the glossy wood, the bow that becomes an extension of his arm.

Then he begins to play and something extraordinary happens.

As 'We Wish You A Merry Christmas' flows out, the room begins to sparkle. The notes spiral and dance, infused with life, cracking with joy, reeking of firelight and cinnamon. Merlin melts into his music, lost in a haze of stars. Mordred couldn't drag his eyes away if he tried. The bow flourishes, the notes tumble and spin in a melodic storm.

When it finishes, the silence deafens and blinds.

Merlin, flushed and golden, breathing hard with sweat trickling down his face, legs trembling, stands at the eye of the storm, anxiously awaiting their approval.

They applaud him enthusiastically, with whistles and cries of 'Encore!' With a glowing smile, Merlin strikes up again, a merry rendition of 'Deck the Halls'.

Arthur sweeps Gwen off her feet in a waltz and Morgana offers her arm to a rather shy-looking but thrilled Percival. The room fills with music and laughter, footsteps and clapping rhythms and out-of-tune singing.

Mordred sings with all his might, never taking his eyes off Merlin, who looks more free than he's ever seen him, lost deep in his own world, a peaceful sense of happy contentment settled on his face.

He has never felt his sense of longing more acutely.


	5. Snow

"Look!"

Mordred pokes his head round the door. The room seems strangely empty now that everyone is gone, vanished into the night.

Merlin stands by the window, face pressed to the glass, his breath misting it over.

"It's snowing!"

Mordred hurries to look for himself. It is snowing, falling in thick flakes, blanketing the sleeping town in white like a storybook illustration. The sky is a soft, deep blue, studded with the jewels of Christmas lights and street lamps.

"Wow," he breathes.

Merlin tugs at his sleeve. "Let's go outside. Come on!"

"What, now?"

"No, at Easter. Yes now!"

The mischievous glint that Mordred hasn't seen for days is dazzling, and he lets Merlin drag him into the hall, quickly donning his coat. Merlin wears his stupidly cute beanie. Of course.

"Carry me?" he asks.

Mordred sighs. " _Go on._ Honestly, I deserve a knighthood for this."

"Should I call you Sir Mordred then?"

"No, no, your Majesty will do just fine."

Merlin squeals and then giggles as Mordred sweeps him up bridal style - even the thought of it makes him blush - and carries him down the stairs and out into the night.

Hushed, awed silence falls over them when they see it properly, the magical white flurry frosting the rooftops and gently floating to the ground. Merlin raises his hand and catches a tiny lacy snowflake on his palm, which almost instantly melts to nothing. He smiles.

Mordred sets him down on the ground - and stuffs a handful of snow down his back.

"Oi!"

Merlin staggers upright, scooping up armfuls of the stuff and dumps it over Mordred's head. A furious snowball fight - and more than one match of verbal sparring - ensues, until Merlin, laughing and pink in the face, stumbles and Mordred quickly catches him in his arms.

"I forgot to ask," says Merlin. "How did you pay for my violin?"

Mordred looks down at the ground. "You know my grandma's necklace that I have?"

It slowly dawns on him. "You didn't - oh Mordred, why? You love that necklace, why did you sell it just to buy me a violin you idiot?"

"Because I love you."

They're breathless and giddy and leaning on each other, and Merlin is bright and gorgeous and Mordred can't restrain himself any longer.

He leans in just that bit further and kisses him.

It is slow and perfect and Merlin's lips are soft and cold and melt at his touch. Arms wrap around him, pulling him closer. He cradles his face in his hands and kisses the snow from his eyelashes.

As they pull apart, the clock chimes midnight in an almost joyful ringing.

"Merry Christmas Merlin." Mordred whispers.

"Really? That is _such_ a cliche Mordred. I expected more from you."

He laughs. "Just shut up misery-guts and kiss me."


	6. New Year

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! So, here is the last chapter. It's more of a fluffy epilogue that ties up something from Chapter 1 but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless.

"Wow! Seriously? You're not joking? Shut up... No, not you, the cat. Oh my god - they want it displayed at the exhibition? OW! Damn cat! Ahem. Sorry. What? Yeah. Yeah sure. That sounds great. Yes. Thanks Gaius." Mordred attempts to juggle talking on the phone, performing a celebratory dance and getting a bowl of cat food for an impatient Dr Watson.

"OK. Bye."

He hangs up, sets the bowl on the floor and dashes into the living room, bursting with excitement, yelling "MERLIN!"

Merlin pauses in his rendition of 'Hikaru Nara'. He's barely put the violin down all week and Mordred doubts he ever plans to.

"Yeah?"

"Well put the bloody violin down for five seconds."

Merlin complies. "OK. What's the breaking news Picasso?"

"You know that 'Figure in Motion' I had to do for my portfolio? Well apparently this rich art buff came to the uni and saw them and she wants to display mine at her charity exhibition next month!"

"The dancer one? Holy shit!" Merlin tackles him in a hug. "You brilliant motherfucker!"

Mordred swings him round in a circle in his glee, almost cackling with delighted laughter.

"Can I see this famous painting then? You never did show me."

"Sorry. I wanted to get it submitted before the deadline," Mordred digs out his phone and scrolls through the camera roll. "I took a picture. See?"

He hands it to Merlin.

For a second, his boyfriend is frozen in shock, then flushed with confusion and happy embarrassment. Because it isn't the ballet dancer twirling against a backdrop of soft pink roses. It is Merlin, stood at the centre of a golden whirlwind of stars, playing the violin.

"Mordred..."

"Yeah?" 

Merlin just shakes his head. "Well apart from the fact that you've made me about a million times more attractive than I actually am -"

Mordred puts a finger over his lips. "Nuh-uh. Don't you go all modest on me."

"Well kiss me then."

With a chuckle, Mordred does exactly so, wrapping his arms around Merlin's skinny frame. And as they kiss, the clock begins to toll midnight.

"Don't you dare -"

"Happy New Year Merlin."

"Do you time all our kisses just to have these cheesy romantic moments?"

"Of course I do."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hooray! Finished! :)

**Author's Note:**

> I am planning to continue this, but I'd be very interested to see what people think so far!


End file.
